Eden is in our hearts

Every time I complain, it is because I want a perfect place, a perfect situation, not just for me but for everyone. Every time I long for better things without complaining (which is a far better attitude), still I am longing for that perfection that was lost.

We lost Eden because of sin. Adam and Eve were put out of paradise because they disobeyed God. Their home had been a garden where all living things served them and they walked with God. Then they did the only thing God told them not to do, and that was the end of perfection.

Isn’t that perfection memory part of our genetic code? Whether we invent, create, complain, or simply hope, we want Eden back. Perhaps this is what Jesus had in mind when taught His disciples about prayer.

When you pray, say: “Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come....” (Luke 11:2)

This is a prayer for the future. We are asking for the perfection we lost to come back, for Eden, but it is also a prayer for a King. When I pray it, I am asking God to reign on earth, that people acknowledge Him as King, that life is according to His commands. I’m not asking to be taken from here to heaven, but that heaven may come down to my world, and that my world becomes like it.

Those who are in darkness concerning the kingdom of God still long for a king. As today’s devotional says, the Israelites associated it with King David. The British perhaps look back to Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. The peoples of the world long for a perfect leader, a ruler who will govern us in Eden-like perfection. Of course, there is no such perfection and as soon as we elect a new leader, we are disappointed in his or her decisions. The longing in our hearts is for Eden and a perfect king, but it isn’t being fulfilled. It cannot be until the kingdom of God comes and our King is Jesus. When that kingdom is established and that King is enthroned, we will experience a better Eden than the Eden we have lost.

True, God is King now and the world is His, but by creation mostly. Those who follow King Jesus know that others do not. These others are often as disgruntled with Him as they are with human leaders and authorities. They want perfection, but on their own terms. This is how sin works: “I want my own way.”

The Coming King loves us to death (literally), yet being a king means being in charge. If I am praying, “Thy kingdom come” I am asking Him to rule, not asking Him to give me an Eden where I am the boss. As long as I insist on being in charge, or at least having my way regardless of who is in charge, then I will not have Eden. My sinful selfishness will ruin it, just as Adam’s disobedience ruined the first Eden.

What makes the difference between having what I want and having the perfection of Eden? It is the love of God that knows and gives what is best for His subjects, but receiving it involves faith in His subjects. If I do not trust Him, then no matter what kind of world I live in, I will complain and want things done differently, supplied differently, organized differently. It was in perfection that Satan convinced Eve her life was not good enough without that forbidden fruit. Sin also convinces me that no matter what I have, it is never good enough.

Eden (and God’s kingdom) is about being content with the supply of God. Yes, there will be a future day and a future kingdom when and where that supply is without trial, sorrow, pain and sin, but even now — with the abundance of all those negatives — it is possible to taste Eden. I can do it, not by gaining perfection, but by being thankful for what I have because I trust the King, the One who has given it to me.

… for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:11–13)

That longing to go home

The devotional writer says, “God has put in the heart… a longing for himself. The mass of humanity does not understand it. People just know that there are times when they want to be quiet, times when they want to be alone, times when the calendar or the stars or death speaks to them. They hunger and they thirst—but for what?”

Being alone for several days brings out this longing. So do horrible stories in the news, funerals, and sometimes fatigue. It is what some call a homing instinct, a deep and profound sense of wanting to “go home.”

I notice it when life is not satisfying, or when I’m sad for no reason, or even happy for no reason, but sometimes this longing for home hits me at odd moments. I might be driving, or pushing a grocery cart when it sweeps over me and automatically I say, sometimes aloud, that I want to go home.

So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. (2 Corinthians 5:6–8)

While God blesses my life, I know that this world will never satisfy me completely. No matter what I have or gain, God “put eternity in my heart” (Ecclesiastes 3:11) and it is eternity that I long for, not more stuff or more of anything else, or even to have life totally the way that I want it to be. The ache for eternity, that homesickness for heaven cannot be satisfied by anything less than being with Jesus.

Yet I am here. God wants me to make the best of where I am and do whatever He gives me to do. Paul had that same longing for home, yet knew that God had reasons for him to stay, at least for a few more years…

I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account. (Philippians 1:23–24)

Paul’s reason for staying was the reason God gives every Christian. We are not in heaven yet because He has a task for us here. Part of that task is making clear to ourselves and to others the meaning of this hunger in our hearts, this longing that is sometime vague, illusive, and even an unwanted intrusion.

The devotional writer says that Christians know this hunger yet at times may lose our way. He says we must never lose our address. That is, don’t deny the hunger or even offer a nod to satisfaction with this life. This homesickness for God is a divine gift and precious, a continual reminder that my dwelling here is a mere tent and at any time the Lord “may come to draw the pegs.”

If I feel like that, how about those who have not yet identified this deep desire and do not know what is pulling on their hearts? This is God’s reason for His “not yet” to me. I have an obligation to expose the mystery of this longing.

For now, I am a stranger and a pilgrim here, filled with a sense of not belonging yet knowing this is where God wants me to be. He gives me zeal to do His will, yet because of that deep longing to go home, part of that zeal is being able to see by faith that being here is temporary. No matter how much He blesses this life, this life is not all there is.

The Deepest Desire

It is said that we are created with a God-shaped vacuum and never feel satisfied until that void is filled with Him. Yet even then, in this blessed Christian life there is a sense of incompleteness. We know we have Him and yet we know He does not have all of us. For that, there is a deep longing.

And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. (Romans 8:23)

Spurgeon’s reading for today so perfectly describes this inner longing that I am personalizing his words as a mirror and echo of what the Lord says to me also.

All believers feel this groaning to a greater or lesser degree. It is not the groan of murmuring or complaint, but rather the note of desire. We have received the Holy Spirit, yet we desire the whole experience of Him.

We sigh that our entire spirit, soul, and body is not yet set free from the last vestige of the fall. We long to put off all corruption, weakness, and dishonor. We yearn inwardly to be wrapped in purity, immortality, glory — in the spiritual body which the Lord Jesus will bestow upon us. We long for the manifestation of our adoption as the children of God.

This groaning is “within ourselves” and not the groan of a hypocrite so as to make others believe we are greater saints because of our wretched state. Instead, these sighs are sacred, too hallowed to talk about. They are known to and offered to our Lord alone.

We “wait” and are not petulant like Jonah or Elijah when life was difficult and they blurted, “Let me die.” We do not whimper for the end of life because we are tired of work, nor wish to escape present sufferings for we are tired of those also. We groan for glorification, but must wait patiently for it, knowing that the timing of the Lord is best. Waiting implies being ready, standing at the door expecting Jesus to open it and take us to Himself.

This “groaning” is a test. People can be judged by what they long for. Some groan after wealth for they worship money. Some groan under the troubles of life because they are impatient and perhaps love comfort. Some groan for glory in this life. However, the person who sighs after God and is uneasy until he is made like Jesus is a blessed believer. He sighs because the Spirit who lives within also groans for the coming of the Lord, and the resurrection which He will bring to us.

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Lord, You know my heart. There is nothing to add to this.

To Live is Christ — in this world and longing for a better one

I’m reading a book written in the 1880's by a Puritan, John Owen. Its title, The Glory of Christ, is an understatement. Few books tell the simple truth about Jesus and leave me with great compelling desire to see Him, to be with Him. Last night’s chapter described how Christians fight sin here, but all our struggles will fall away when we see Him as He is, in full glory.

In contrast, today brings the challenges of living in the world, a world full of sin and darkness. Yet as I review the following verses, glimpses of Christ’s glory shine through and encourage me.

Do not be unequally yoked together with unbelievers. For what fellowship has righteousness with lawlessness? And what communion has light with darkness? And what accord has Christ with Belial? Or what part has a believer with an unbeliever? And what agreement has the temple of God with idols? For you are the temple of the living God. As God has said: “I will dwell in them and walk among them. I will be their God, and they shall be My people.” Therefore “Come out from among them and be separate, says the Lord. Do not touch what is unclean, and I will receive you.” “I will be a Father to you, and you shall be My sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.” (2 Corinthians 6:14–18)

These verses describe Jesus. He was the One who dwelled here with us and walked among us, our God who has made us His people by faith. Faith can see how He was in this world yet He did not yoke Himself with anything that was lawless, darkness, of the devil, or without faith. He set the example of what these verses mean. He ate and drank with sinners, but remained pure and holy.

Jesus knows what it is like to live in a sinful, polluted world. He rubbed shoulders daily with people in the grip of sin, people who had no idea how much sin controlled their lives. He was separate from sin yet highly involved with sinners — and loved them. 

These verses make me think of what the Apostle John wrote about being in the world. It is a highly unfriendly place for those desiring to be godly. John warns me . . . 

Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—is not of the Father but is of the world. And the world is passing away, and the lust of it; but he who does the will of God abides forever. (1 John 2:15–17)

Christians too often think loving the world is about “things” and materialism, but this passage covers far more than that. It shows me how much I need the grace and help of God to be here — yet be separate, like Jesus.

The lust of the flesh is living according to the desires of my physical self. This is about gluttony, adultery, and self-protection. It is also about pampering me and insisting on what makes me feel good. It is wanting comfort, ordering just the right foods, insisting that the thermostat is on the right setting. Jesus never did any of that.

The lust of the eyes is about wanting what I can see. It is materialism, but also greed, hoarding, a controlling power-hungry grasping for whatever I can get for myself. Again, it can be extreme or subtle, going for the whole bakery, or just the biggest piece of cake on the platter.

The pride of life covers so much territory that I can hardly begin to describe it. It is obvious pride that shouts, “Look at me” but it is also that self-focused pride that says, “Poor me, I deserve much better than this.” It is always wanting the best, but also false humility that insists on the least, like the smallest piece of cake. It is that need to win, and the tiny disappointment when others do better than I have. It is the gloating, inward or obvious, that I do when I am right and someone else is wrong.

I could go on forever about pride, but as I type the word “forever” — I’m reminded that no, I will not. One day, as Owen so eloquently describes, I will see Jesus face to face. Pride and greed and selfishness will fall away and love of the world will be a moot point. Because of the brightness of His glory I will finally see the fullness of His glory and, wonder of wonders, I will be transformed into His image.